


The Chute

by genericfanatic



Series: Voltron Trek [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Some serious friendship, Star Trek inspired, Trans Girl Pidge, minor torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genericfanatic/pseuds/genericfanatic
Summary: Pidge and Lance are stuck in a strange Galra prison, with implants that make them more irritable. They must attempt to escape, before they are killed by their fellow prisoners or each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off the voyager episode "The Chute," Some Klance if you squint.
> 
> This was also originally one fic that was going to have tons of chapters, but I've changed it to a series so people can better see what they're getting into with each one-shot, since they're all pretty different. I'll keep the same updating time (one every two days or so, if I'm doing well) but you may want to subscribe to the series instead of the fic. Thanks!

“Pidge. Pidge, come on, please wake up,”

Pidge was struggling to open her eyes. Her head hurt, and she couldn’t remember why. Finally, light streamed into her eyes, and quiznak did THAT hurt. Someone was standing over her. She blinked, trying to clear the pain, but it didn’t go away. She powered through it, forcing herself to look up.

Lance was crouched over her, looking concerned. When she looked at him, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank quiznak,” he said, relaxing back against the dirt wall.

Pidge held her head and sat up. “Ugh…what happened?” 

Lance pushed what looked like a block into Pidge’s hands. “Eat it. It’s food, or what passes for food anyway.” Pidge took a bite. It tasted like a brick, and had the texture of sawdust. “What do you remember?”

Pidge swallowed the small bite, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. “We were surveying the planet…and we got to the Galran compound…did we get caught?”

Lance looked around at the alien prisoners. “I’d say so.”

Pidge looked down and noticed he was wearing the traditional Galran prisoners uniform. “So what, are we going to have to fight, like Shiro? Tortured for information?”

“I don’t think they know who we are,” Lance said eyeing one of the prisoners who was looking at Pidge strangely. “I haven’t seen any sentries or guards….and this doesn’t look like any Galran prison I’ve seen.” He patted the dirt walls, “Not that I’m a prison connoisseur, but still. They just…stuck us into this hole.”

As she woke up more, Pidge was hit with another surge of pain. “Oh, quiznak, I’ve got the WORST headache,” She rubbed the back of her head, surprised when she found something attached to her scalp. “What the—“

“Don’t touch it!” Lance said, grabbing her hand. “I saw a guy rip it off. It took his head with it.” 

Pidge put her hand down, “You have one too?” 

Lance shuffled his hair up for Pidge to see the device on his own head. “Everyone down here seems to have ‘em. I think its some kind of Galra torture device.”

Pidge leaned up, getting a closer look. It was a robotic device like any other, with small blinking lights. “I might be able to hack into them…turn them off at least. 

Lance batted her away, “I’d rather NOT have you explode my HEAD, thanks.” He said, snarling. She stared at him. Lance usually reserved his angry-yelling for Keith, not Pidge. Lance sighed, seeming to know he wasn’t in the right here. “Sorry. I think this place is getting to me.”

Pidge nodded. “It’s fine…we’ll get out of here soon.” She looked around, “If Shiro can escape all on his own, we can surely escape together.” Lance nodded, “We should split up, examine the area for any signs. Look for anywhere that has anything I could hack into.”

Lance nodded, “Meet back here in like an hour?”

Pidge rose an eyebrow, “and how are we supposed to know when it’s an hour?”

Lance opened his mouth to answer but closed it once again. “Just search.”

 

Pidge kept absentmindedly itching the back of her head where the implant was. She was hoping that she would eventually get used to it, but it was only getting worse. 

She was chased away from 3 different sleeping areas with crowds of prisoners sneering at her. She flinched as several didn’t seem even capable of holding conversations when she tried to negotiate with them to just search for an escape route. They just shouted at her “No! NOOO!” And waved their arms or pieces of wood or pipe.

She managed to forget about the pain for all of two seconds as she leaned over a dead body. She was sickened to see it, and he had been all but stripped down (some of his body actually looked cut away and she shuddered, trying not to think of what THAT could mean. The most important thing she found though, was a pipe. It was metal, like several of the pipes that people carried around down here, but more importantly it had electrical wiring running through it. And it was INTACT.

She tossed it in her hands, smiling to herself. Oh, she could do some things with this. 

She was so distracted she didn’t even notice someone had approached until he grabbed her shoulder. She stood up, spinning on him, her training suddenly coming up. “Hey, shortie,” The alien said, grinning broadly at her, “Whatcha got there?”

Pidge clutched the pipe to her chest. “If you were interested, you should have taken it first,” She said defiantly. 

“I wasn’t interested, but you seem to be,” He said, looking down, “All I wanna know is why.”

Pidge started trying to back away from him, but soon hit a wall. “I think that’s MY business, don’t you?”

The alien sneered, “I don’t care.” He reached forward to grab at the pipe, but Pidge dodged away. She raised the pipe up like a weapon, “You think a little pipsqueak like you’s gonna scare me? I might just take you as well! I—“ The alien was cut short as a knife appeared at his throat. 

Lance pressed the blade up against skin, “The girl’s with me, bucko. I suggest you leave her be.”

The alien bared his teeth, but lifted his arms in surrender. Lance spun him and pushed him away, grabbing Pidge’s arm to drag her back to the little shelter Pidge had woken up in. “Thanks,” Pidge said, “Where’d you get a knife?” 

Lance sighed, “Out of a dead guys chest,” he said, shuddering. 

Pidge nodded, “That’s similar to how I got this,” She said, holding up her pipe. Lance still looked shaken, “You did good back there. It was like you were channeling your inner Keith.”

Lance snorted. “I wonder if this is how Keith feels all the time, all pent up and irritated.” Lance scratched the back of his head again. “Don’t tell him, but I actually miss the friggin mullet-head in here.”

Pidge had so many jokes she could through out there about Keith being ‘pent up’ but she held it in. “I miss him too. I miss all of them.” She swallowed, “Hey, I didn’t ask you to ask, so no way you could have known, but, did anyone you talk to mention…uh…”

Lance sighed, “No one that could understand me recognized the name Holt, Sam or Matt.” Pidge nodded, sad, but unsurprised. Lance noted her face, as he said, “So, what’d you get that was worth picking a fight over?”

Pidge pulled at some of the wiring inside the pipe, “If I can get to some kind of interface, I should be able to hack into it with this. Hopefully it can help to get through doors or phone home or something.”

Lance smirked, “Well, on that front I have good news and bad news. Good news is I found an opening.”

Pidge’s eyes brightened, “That’s great! What’s the bad news?”

 

Pidge looked up at the chute. It was like one of the metal slides she was used to as a kid, the difference being she couldn’t see the other end, it was terrifying, and there was a purple forcefield blocking it off. “Hmm.” She said, “Well, this isn’t too bad,” she said. 

“Oh, right, watch this,” Lance said, picking up a handful of dirt. He threw it at the forcefield and it disintegrated immediately.

“Okay,” Pidge said, “That’s horrifying.”

Lance shrugged, “From what I can tell it’s the only way in or out. It’s where food and new prisoners get tossed down. The prisoners say it leads up to the surface.” 

Pidge sighed, feeling along the edges of the slide, Her fingers hooked against an edge. Just as she pulled at it, it pinched her finger. “OW!” She squealed, pulling it away. There was a clear indent on her finger. 

It really didn’t hurt that much, but she growled in anger. She kicked the chute, only succeeding in stubbing her toes, “FUCKING HELL!” She swore loudly, clutching her foot and her finger.

“Hey, hey,” Lance said, holding her shoulder, “Think of what Shiro would say if he heard you swear.”

“Shiro’s not fucking HERE, now IS he?” Pidge shouted in his face. 

Lance opened his mouth to yell back, but took a deep breath. “It’s just the implant.” 

Pidge scowled, “I KNOW it’s just the implant.” She scratched the back of her head, the itch never satisfied. “Doesn’t mean its not frustrating as hell.”

Lance leaned back on the chute. “I know.” He bit his lip. “Hey Pidge, What do you call a lion that works as a copier?”

“What?” Pidge asked, confused as to why he suddenly said that.

Lance smirked, interpreting her answer as part of his joke, “A copycat.”

Pidge snorted, more at Lance’s ridiculousness than the joke. “That was horrible.”

“You laughed!” Lance said, still grinning.

Pidge sighed, and started working on the plate on the chute again, “I was laughing at YOU.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Lance said. “Hey, why did the lion lose at poker?”

Pidge got a grip and started pulling at the plate with all her might, “Why?” she asked.

“He was playing a cheetah!”

With a jerk and a snort, Pidge pulled the plate free, revealing an interface connected to the forcefield. “We really gotta get outta here,” Pidge said, smiling at the controls, “Your jokes are beginning to sound funny to me.

 

Oddly calmed by Lance’s carefree nature, Pidge started working on the forcefield, trying to hack her way in. There were any number of times where she almost had it, only for the wires to spark and short out. She’d cuss out the wires, ready to start tearing into it with her bare hands, when Lance would always put a hand on her shoulder, telling another horrible punch line. Pidge would sigh, insult him, and get back to work.

It was working pretty well…until the alien from earlier came up. “What are you doing?” He asked.

Lance stood in between Pidge and the alien, hand on his knife, “I think we made pretty clear that what we did wasn’t any of your business.” 

The alien smiled at Lance’s dagger, “Not a bad blade,” he said, “I think I’ll take it.”

Lance held it out, getting into a fighting stance, “Oh yeah? You and what army, stink-breath.”

Two more aliens came up behind the first, and all three of them drew weapons, one a club, one a sharpened stick, and the leader had a knife much like Lance’s. “You had to ask, didn’t you?” Pidge said from behind.

The first alien lunged at Lance. He dodged, taking his own swing, but his heart was clearly not in it. Pidge could practically see the wheels turning in Lance’s head, how to get these guys to go away without actually killing them. Lance was many things, and if he absolutely had to he would kill, but he wasn’t a killer. Not truly. Of all the paladins, Pidge knew Lance was the last to actually make a killing blow. 

Still, between the implant and three attackers, there was no room for that here. Pidge lunged forward grabbing ahold of the man with a club by the neck. He didn’t expect it and lurched back, trying to pry off Pidge’s arms. Pidge held on, tightening her grip and cutting off his air supply. A small crowd formed around them, excited for a fight.

Pidge didn’t see it, but heard a squelching noise. Looking up, she saw Lance, hunched over, with the alien’s knife lodged in his stomach. “NOO!!” Pidge screeched, squeezing even harder. The alien pulled out the knife and Lance fell over onto his back. She heard a crack and the man she was holding went down. She didn’t bother to check if he was dead, only grabbed his club and started swinging wildly at the alien, “Back off! BACK OFF! Don’t touch him!”

She nailed the alien in the face and he was thrown back, nose bloodied. She stared down the third assailant with a stick. The alien scurried off, not believing the rewards outweighed the consequences. Sensing the fight was over, the crowd started to disperse. Someone dragged off the alien she had been fighting, but she was too agitated and stressed to care about anyone other than Lance right then. 

Thinking fast, she tore her sleeve and wrapped it around the wound. He was bleeding a lot, “P-Pidge,” He said, holding the cloth to his wound, “P-pipe.” 

Pidge realized what he was saying. Encouraging him to put pressure on the wound, she got up and un-attached the wires from her pipe, ready to be used later. By the time she turned around, someone was hunched over Lance. “Hey!” She screamed, brandishing her new club, “Get away from him!”

The alien lifted his hands in surrender, “I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor,” he said. Pidge wasn’t sure if she believed him, but didn’t have much choice. She leaned down, watching carefully as the supposed doctor tied a bandage tight around the wound. Still, drops of blood leaked through.

The doctor sighed and shook his head. He picked up Lance’s knife and moved it to his throat. “Hey!” Pidge said, grabbing his hand, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The doctor looked almost sad at her. “He’s bleeding out. He’ll last a few days at most, with constant care, and that’s if infection doesn’t set in. It’d be kinder to kill him quickly.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Lance said, glaring at the doctor. 

Pidge brandished her club yet again, “If he dies,” She said, leaning it towards him, “You die.”

The doctor sighed, “Well, we’ll all die if we stay out here in the open like this. C’mon.” He grabbed Lance by the arms and dragged him back to Pidge and Lance’s hideout. 

The doctor dropped him like a sack on the ground, while Pidge rushed to his side, making sure he was okay, “Lance,” She whispered, “Lance, you still with me?”

Lance nodded, “Good news, pain in stomach is distracting me from pain in head.” He reached up and scratched the back of his hair, “Oh, whoops, nevermind. There it is,” 

Pidge sighed, “It’s gonna be alright,” She assured him. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, less sure. “Pidge…I’m sorry to say I can do some simple math.” He swallowed, “There’s no way I can climb up that chute with this,” He said, referencing the wound.

“Oh come on,” Pidge said, trying to keep things light, “You’ll…you’ll be fine.” Lance raised an eyebrow at her. “Keith would do it.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Low blow,” Pidge smirked. “Seriously though. If it comes down to it…promise you won’t sacrifice your life in order to save mine, alright?”

Pidge frowned. She did not like this side of Lance, not one bit, “It’s not gonna come to that.”

“Promise me,” Lance said. Flinching, she nodded.

 

Pidge tried to sleep but didn’t manage it. Instead, she closed the shelter off, putting Lance’s knife in his hands and the pipe on the ground for him to protect himself, and then went off searching for the doctor. 

She found him in a tiny little structure not unlike the one she put Lance in. “Hey,” She said, “He needs more bandages.” 

She saw bits of cloth on the ground beside him. It looked like cloth from other prisoners, but she didn’t question it, “I’m not a shop,” He said.

Pidge lifted her club, “Remember what I said? He dies you—“

“Will die eventually in this shithole,” He said, resting up against a wall, “I took pity, but threats only work once, boy.”

“I’m a girl,” she snarled. He shrugged, not caring. “I’ll give you weapons,” She said.

He sighed, “I have no use for fighting.”

“Please,” She begged, irritation and desperation slipping into her voice. “He’s dying.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I told you that already.” She closed her eyes and hung her head. What the hell was she supposed to tell the others when they found her? If they found her? She pictured the look on Shiro’s—Hunk’s—Keith’s, god, Keith’s face if she told them… “What were you doing with the pipe?” 

Pidge looked back up at him. “Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged, “Bored curiosity. So?”

She licked her lips, “I can use it to escape,” She gambled, too stressed to think of consequences.

He barked out a laugh. “Escape? To where? The Galra’ll just toss you back down here.” 

She shook her head, “If I can get to the surface, I might be able to contact our ship,” She said, “They’ll come pick us up.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “No ship can get past the Galra.”

“This one can,” She sighed, “It’s an Altean ship, Lion Castle that holds the five lions of Voltron.”

He rolled his eyes, “Voltron’s a myth.”

“It’s not!” She all but screamed, “My friend and I are paladins, Green and Blue.”

“You must not be very good paladins if you ended up here,” the doctor said. He sighed, “But…why not, I’ve got nothing to lose.” He stood up and grabbed his cloth, “Take me with you, and these are yours.”

She all but cried at delight as she grabbed it, running back to change Lance’s bandages.

 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she was back at the panel, plugging in wires and re-routing them, this time with the doctor by her side instead of Lance. He sat on the ground doing some kind of weird meditation. “Hey,” She asked, “I never got your name,”

“I didn’t give it to you,” He said, his voice trance-like, “Barok.” He said.

Pidge nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Pidge,” She said, “My friend is Lance.”

“Strange names,” He said.

“Yeah, well,” She pulled at a particularly troublesome wire, “We’re from a strange planet. Earth. On the other side of the galaxy.” He hummed, not really paying attention. “Hey, Barok.” Pidge said, “Why did the lion lose at poker?”

“What’s a lion?” He asked.

Pidge sighed, “Nevermind.” The panel sparked again, the heat landing on her skin, “OW!” She screamed clutching her hand. She squeezed it, grinding her teeth to try and calm down her mind, but she only saw red.

“Don’t fight it,” Barok said. “Use it.” 

It took all her strength not to kick him in the head for that. “Easy for you to say, meditation man.”

He sighed, exasperated with her. “Do you know how I keep calm when this implant is eating at my brain, turning everyone else into animals?”

“You snuck in a joint?” Pidge asked, sarcastically, still clutching her hand. The pain was going down. Taking a sigh, she went back to the panel, starting to work again.

He ignored her talking, “It’s because I know the truth. I know what its for. And that knowledge has kept me alive longer than anyone else in here.”

She rolled her eyes at his pretentiousness. “You’d do well as a main character in a YA novel back on Earth.” She said. He didn’t know what she meant, so he ignored her again, “So what is ‘the truth.’”

He smiled, still looking superior, but too eager to share his knowledge. “It’s for efficiency.” She didn’t look up at him. “Why bother trying to care or kill us, when we can just kill each other? Don’t need guards, don’t need security. Although who knows? Maybe they’re watching us now, like a 24 hour gladiator fight.”

She resisted rolling her eyes only because she was focusing in on hacking the damn panel. She wished Hunk were here to help. “Maybe,” She said, noncommittal.

He didn’t seem satisfied. He came up to her. “Don’t you see? Once you know, you can resist it. Make it work for you instead of against you. Because if you don’t, it’ll tear you apart from the inside out.”

She breathed long and deep. She attempted what he said, using her anger to power her through, connecting wire after wire, tearing unneeded wires with her bare fingers because she left the damn knife back with Lance. Sparks hit her hand still, along with minor jolts of electricity, but she powered through it. She was pretty sure this wasn’t up to any kind of code, but she worked anyway. 

“There,” she said, finally, “I think…I think that should do it.” The purple forcefield shimmered and disappeared. She and Barok exchanged excited glances. Hesitantly, Barok threw dirt at where the field was. It fell harmlessly on the chute, intact. 

Excited, Pidge threw herself into the chute and started climbing her way up. She heard the clunking of Barok on her heels. 

The chute was a lot longer than she thought it would be, slowly increasing from a 45 to nearly a 90 degree angle. Still, she gripped the sides and shimmied her way up. 

Finally, in a clichéd moment, she saw a light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t white or blinding, just a simple yellow light. She pushed her way up to it, only to bang her head. “Ow!” She yelled, blinking the pain from her eyes. 

It took a moment to realize. It wasn’t one light, it was several. And the thing she had hit her head on? Glass.

“What is it?” Barok asked. “Is it the surface?”

Pidge sighed, helpless and ready to cry. “No,” She said, looking out into the vastness of outer space, “it’s not the surface.”

It was a ship. They were on a ship. And the only door lead to death.

 

Barok and Pidge slid their way back down the chute. When they reached the bottom, Pidge disconnected the pipe and started muttering. “There has to be a way,” She said, “There HAS to. Maybe…maybe we can intercept it…when food comes, or-or a new prisoner. There has to be a ship that drops them off, right? Maybe we can sneak aboard.”

“How?” Barok asked, sarcastically, “I didn’t see a whole lot of room in there for stealth.”

Pidge jumped into Barok’s face, “I’M TRYING HERE!” She yelled. He looked unimpressed, “I just…I don’t…” 

She clutched her head, trying to clear it and think of a plan. “The implant is affecting you,” Barok said, “There’s nothing more to do.”

She growled at him, “There’s ALWAYS another way,” She said. She took a deep breath. “I’m…I’m going to go sleep, and think up a new plan.” She dragged her pipe back to her shelter.

It wasn’t until she opened the flap she realized…Lance. She had forgotten Lance as she was trying to escape.

He looked up at her, eyes sunken. Still, he smiled, “Hey kiddo,” He said, “How’s the escape plan working out.”

She sighed sitting beside him, “Hit a bit of a setback.” She lifted his shirt and saw the blood-covered bandage, “Here, let me change that for you.”

He flinched away from her touch. “N-no,” he muttered, sounding delirious, “It—it hurts.”

“I KNOW it hurts,” she said, unable to hide the bite from her words, “But you have to let me change it.” He scrunched up his face, reluctant, but too weak to fight her as she tore off the dirty bandage, “Tell me another joke,” She said, trying to distract him.

He swallowed, pitiful noises of pain echoing in his throat as she wrapped him up. “Uhh…What do you…what do you call a lion wearing a stylish hat?”

“I don’t know,” Pidge said, “What do you call it?”

Lance squinted up at her in pain, “What do you call what?”

Pidge breathed a sigh, trying to keep calm, “A lion in a hat, Lance? What do you call it?”

Lance swallowed, biting his lip, “I don’t remember.”

Pidge cried herself to sleep.

 

She hoped she would wake up in a better mood, but was, in fact, worse. Crying had made her dehydrated. She wasn’t sure the last time she had drunk water. Or ate food. God, she was hungry. 

There was a noise to her right. A banging. She opened her eyes, a wave of dizziness passing over. She sat up, trying to focus. 

Lance was banging the club onto something metal. Pidge looked down. It was her pipe, “Lance no!” She said, getting up and pushing Lance back, perhaps a touch too harshly. 

Lance quivered on the ground, “It—it sparked at me!”

Pidge looked over the damage. The electrical wires were smashed…unusable. “You’ve ruined it,” She said, gritting her teeth and glaring up at him, “That was our only way out of here!”

Lance’s lip quivered again, pathetic, but defiant. “IT SPARKED AT ME!” He said again, tears in his eyes.

Pidge screamed at him, unable to contain her anger. She lifted the pipe above her head and struck Lance’s shoulder. He bleated in pain. She did it again. She heard a crack, and Lance clutched at his shoulder. His screams of pain annoyed her. He was so loud, why was he always so loud? One more strike and he wouldn’t make any more noise, she thought. 

She had the pipe lifted in the air once again, positioned properly over his head before she stopped. Lance winced up at her, eyes so pathetic and sad and pleading, silently begging for his life. Her friend’s life. 

“Do it,” She turned her head only far enough to see Barok at her shelter entrance, “He’s nothing but a burden. The longer he lives, the less you do.”

She held the pipe up, her arms shaking. She was ready to do it. She was really thinking about doing it. But…she couldn’t. She let her arms fall, the pipe landing at her side. 

Lance seized the opportunity, wriggling out of the shelter, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his bandage as he crawled as far from Pidge as he could. “You’re weak,” Barok said, stalking off. 

Fat tears welled up in Pidge’s eyes as the reality sat in of what she had been about to do. She wiped them, listening to a commotion outside. She grabbed the pipe again and got up, heading towards the chute.

Another crowd had formed, and she laser-focused in on the center of it. Lance was being held up by the alien who had stabbed him, screaming his head off in pain. The alien laughed, like his pain was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Pidge surged forward, all her anger and pain leaping to her aid. The crowd parted in fear of her, and she didn’t hesitate as she struck the alien in the side, making him drop Lance to the ground, “Back away!” She yelled at him. She swung the pipe in wide circles as she had done with the club earlier, “Back away! This is my friend!” She said defiantly. She stood over Lance’s legs, “This is my friend, no one touches him!” She shouted, pointing the pipe at anyone who got too close.

The crowd might have attacked anyway, but Pidge never got to find out. The chute started rumbling, distracting everyone. They watched, hoping for food, and if not, a new prisoner for them to antagonize. 

What came down was neither. A ball of red and white fury, Keith rolled out of the chute, Bayard at the ready and pointing it at the frightened prisoners. Behind him came Shiro, hand glowing purple, and Hunk, machine gun cocked and ready. 

Pidge fell to her knees at the sight. “Sh—“ She blurted out, “Shiro!” 

Shiro ran over to her, “Pidge! Are you alright? Are you—“

“Lance needs help,” She said, before leaning forward onto Shiro’s chest and blacking out.

 

“Are you sure you’re not going to explode my head?” Lance asked Coran.

Coran sighed, “Pidge still has hers, doesn’t she?” Coran nodded over to where Pidge sat, refusing to look at anyone. She was hungry enough that she devoured her food, but did not gain any satisfaction from it. “The medical pod has already nullified the effects.” Coran continued, “Surely, you’ve noticed.”

Lance shrugged, “I dunno. Keith’s in the room, so I wasn’t sure if I was at my normal amount of irritation, or if it was slightly higher.”

“Shut up,” Keith said. He tried to frown at Lance, but his face betrayed his worry. 

“Aand, there we go.” Coran said, pulling the implant from Lance’s head, “Good as new.” 

Lance rubbed the back of his head, “Oh, thank quiznak,” He said, “I was worried I’d be sleeping on my face for the rest of my life.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Shiro said, “I’ve never seen a Galran prison like that, and I’m starting to become an expert.”

Lance shrugged, “All thanks to Pidge, really,” He said. Pidge flinched. “She’s the reason I’m still in one big beautiful piece.”

Pidge couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and walked out the door, ignoring Shiro’s protest of “Pidge.”

She kept walking until she reached the comfort of Green’s hangar. It was good to have Green back in her head, she had missed her absence. 

She started crying, because she felt like she didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve green, didn’t deserve to be a Paladin, didn’t deserve her friends. She had pushed Lance away from the beginning, even when he was only trying to be friends. And then she had almost killed him. She had come so close…too close…

“I remembered the punch line,” Lance’s voice came from behind. 

She turned, wiping her eyes. He was leaning casually on the doorframe, “W-What?” She asked.

“A Dandelion.” He said, smirking. She stared at him in disbelief. “What do you call a lion with a stylish hat? A dandy lion!” He laughed at his own joke. 

She felt the tears welling up again. “Lance…you…don’t you remember what I did?” She sniffed, “What I almost—“ She shook her head. He came over and sat beside her, trying to put a comforting hand on her arm. She shrugged him off. “I almost killed you. Lance, I—I was GOING to kill you. I can’t believe I—“

He put his hand on her shoulder more firmly, not allowing her to shrug him off until she looked at him. “You know what I remember?” He asked. She shook her head, “I remember you standing over me, shouting, ‘This is my friend. This is my friend, no one touches him.’” He swallowed, his eyes filled with a rare sincerity. “I’m never going to forget that.”

Pidge couldn’t see anymore from the tears blurring her vision. She surged forward, pulling him into a tight hug and sobbing into his shirt. “There, there,” he said, holding her and patting her back, “It’s alright, let it out. I’m here, it’s alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> I literally cried writing the ending.
> 
> For this series, I have a list of episodes that I'll be doing that I have at least some idea of how to do, but if you have an episode you'd like to request me to parody, let me know! I will be doing mostly one-off type of episodes, so nothing super over-arching or plot-heavy. 
> 
> I also swear the next one-shot will be fluffy to make up for this angst fest.
> 
> Let me know what you think! My tumblr is dork-empress.tumblr.com


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